


Give and Take

by triaux



Category: Black Sails
Genre: Age Difference, Alternate Universe - Boarding School, Dubious Morality, Hurt/Comfort, Light BDSM, M/M, Power Play, Punishment, Spanking, Teacher-Student Relationship, There is a plot I promise, it has some really cute/sweet parts, john is a student and flint is his teacher, silver is 16, silverflint
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-09-11
Updated: 2016-10-14
Packaged: 2018-08-14 11:50:50
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Underage
Chapters: 11
Words: 15,690
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8012608
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/triaux/pseuds/triaux
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Art student John Silver has been sent away to Walrus Academy, an expensive boarding school, and James Flint is his chemistry professor.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

"Sit.", he says inclining a hand toward a chair at the lab table. John pauses for a moment before setting his backpack down and shuffling into the hard chair.  

"Now what was it you wanted to discuss?", the professor asks, taking the seat across from him. 

John tries to gather his thoughts into a sentence. He's been avoiding this all day, and starts to feel panic rise within him.

"Well... I know I haven't exactly been an exceptional chemistry student. And I've been trying, but my test scores are still so low. I was wondering if you had any suggestions?"

Professor Flint watches him as he speaks, his light eyes seemingly understanding. There's something else there as well, John thinks. Minor annoyance perhaps, from the way his eyebrows scrunch together.   

"Is there anything in particular you need help with? Or are you just having trouble with the course work in general?", he asks.  

"I think it's just in general", John admits with a sigh. His pride is wounded by coming here, for asking for help.  

"Alright, let's see...", Professor Flint says, leaning back in his seat and bringing a hand up to his stubble. 

"Why don't I give you a few example problems, and you try them out so we can see what it is you need to work on."  

John nods and Flint gets up to fetch a worksheet. He sets the sheet before John who sees it has some conversion and calorimeter problems. John sighs and gets out his calculator as Flint returns to his desk to let him work.   

It takes John longer than it should, and he's embarrassed. He struggles through, but doesn't remember how to solve one of them so he just leaves it blank.  

Flint seems to sense that he has finished because he looks up from his own paperwork, then stands up to check on his student.

He spins the paper around to look at it, and stands on the other side of the lab table, bracing with his hands as John sees him do in the mornings on the windowsill at the end of the hall. John thinks he always appears a bit sad, and contemplative. Like perhaps he misses something.  

"These are correct, but take a closer look at number three- I think you might have mixed up the ratio on that one. You didn't try this one?"  

John shakes his head, dark curls bobbing, and looks worried.  

"Let me show you how to start it, then."  

He crosses over to sit next to John, who scoots his chair over to give him more room. The professor explains how to set the equation up and asks him what he'd do next. John doesn't know. He takes a guess.  

Flint shakes his head and calmly explains the next step.  

"You didn't miss the day when I explained how to do to do these sorts of problems, right?", he asks John just to be sure. The boy had been missing a number of his classes recently. 

"No", he says, I'm just bad at math."  

"No, you aren't. That's a mindset. You just haven't been taught how to go about these sorts of problems. You'll get better." 

He helps John finish the problem and John finds himself feeling a little better about the situation. Maybe if he practiced he wouldn't get so nervous on the next test.  

"Thank you", he says almost shyly. "You didn't have to take the time to help me."  

"Of course, it was no trouble. Feel free to come back if you require any further assistance.", Professor Flint responds with a flash of a rare smile. John has seen him regard other students in this way, but never him. 

"Thanks", he says.  

He packs up his things and starts to head out. Part of him wants to stay in the lab, if just to have some company. The Walrus Academy has not been ideal for making friends. And he hates the uniforms. He decides to just go back to his dorm to relax.  

 

\-----

 

His alarm doesn't go off the next morning.

He hurries into chemistry class an hour late, his dark blue tie barely in place. His roommate, Randall didn't think to wake him, he supposes. Figures. 

The class is working silently and Professor Flint doesn't say anything as John hurries across the room to take his seat. He knows he's being marked with a tardy. It's the third- no fourth time this quarter, and the school's strict policy will start to get in John's way if he doesn't start being more careful. 

His lab table doesn't say much to him. Billy, the boy across from him just hands him a paper and so John gets to work.  

To his relief, it looks like much the same as the problems Professor Flint had helped him with yesterday, and he's able to get through it without too much trouble.

It's not long until the bell rings and as he's leaving to get to his next class. He's almost out the door when Flint stops him. 

"Mr. Silver, stay back a moment please."

 _Oh wonderful._   

John puts on a fake smile and paces over to Flint's desk at the corner of the room. Flint peers up at him over the top of his reading glasses.  

"Care to explain your tardiness?", he asks the boy.  

John fidgits and attempts to straighten his tie.  

"Well, you see my alarm didn't go off this morning and I woke up late", he admits.   

"Hm. Well, you missed a large part of the lesson today so you'll need to get caught up. You can see me during lunch hour or at the end of the day if you would like", the professor says.   

John pauses for a moment. "So the tardy....?", he begins to ask. 

"Yes, well. Just come by and make up what you need to and the 'present' mark by your name stays for today", he says nonchalantly.  

No one has done John a favor in a long while and he's grateful.  

"Thank you, sir. I will. I'll try to not let it happen again." John puts on his best innocent angel look.

Flint clears his throat a little and looks back to his laptop.   

"Best not be late for another class then."  

John takes this as his dismissal and hurries from the room, and down the hall to his English class.  

The rest of the day is uneventful and almost pleasant. It's Friday and he looks forward to having the weekend to rest and worry less about things. He only has one more year at the cademy after this one and there's a lot to plan for.

"Work on your painting, John.", Professor Lilywhite says kindly.

_Oh right, art class._

John supposes he has been quite distracted lately and he tries to focus on art for the rest of the class. He's been an art student for years and has gotten quite skilled with all of the practice. He was well known at his old school for being an all around arts star as he excelled in both visual and performing arts. John has known from a young age where his passion lies. 

On the other hand, mathematics have always proved to be a challenge for him. Not because he isn't capable, it's just the way teachers always make it harder than it is. Rigid and difficult.  

And naturally, when someone has struggled with something for a long time, they start to believe they are just bad at it. That there's no solution. So eventually even talking about the subject brings up feelings of frustration.  

John really hates math. And chemistry. Mostly because of the math.  

He can't believe he has to go to another tutoring session with Flint. He's not so sure what he thinks of the tall, long haired professor currently, though he initially liked Flint. Then for a while he hated him.

John always found Flint's general snarkiness and smug attitude refreshing in some way. He's not one of those teachers that acts excited just to get their students engaged.

John can tell he's well traveled and educated in many areas. It's clear he has a real love for knowledge. John wonders if this is why he became a teacher. He's always so formal...perhaps he did something else before. 

There's also a sort of loneliness that John can’t help but notice. As far as he knows, Professor Flint is not married and has no children. Maybe he was once, John doesn't know.

All he knows is that they're alike in some way. Both a bit lonely, a bit different.    

John's always been good at reading otherd. It's frustrating for sometimes, though also handy; it's easier than one might think to use pieces of recovered information about a person to achieve what you want. 

John knows he can use it against people, though most of the time, he tries not to. It's not the best way to get people to like you, and John knows well enough that not many people around here like him.

He's new and different. Not upper class like most of the other kids here. He wishes he could go back to his old school, his old home. But his father thought that sending him away would do him some good. And it has in some ways. John no longer sneaks out or smokes cigarettes with his friends in the school parking lot. He doesn't get into trouble at large parties and has no longer has any access to alcohol.  

He was only doing all that for the experience anyways. Not because he was a bad kid. He just wanted to break some rules to have fun.

His reminiscing is interrupted by the final bell of the day and the class is dismissed. He takes his time cleaning up his station and putting his paints away. He knows Professor Flint will be there, that there's no reason to rush.

Part of him is always uneasy around Flint. He suspects the professormight also have a talent to relate to people, and John doesn't like other people getting into his head.

Though it's a bit of a two way street, he supposes. He has to be open to figure out information about others, but it also opens them up to perceiving information about him. A bit of a two way street, really. Give and take.

Eventually, he stops procrastinating and makes his way to the lab which is all the way across the school from the art wing. A five minute walk at least. He prefers the school like this. Empty and quieter.

The door is cracked when he reaches the lab, and John pushes it open and announce his prompt arrival. Flint is across the room at his filing cabinet and he turns to greet John. "Made it on time, I see." 

John walks over to take his usual seat, but Flint waves him over to his desk. There's an extra chair there and John realizes it must be for him. Flint takes a seat in his nice chair with wheels.  

"Now," he starts, and begins the lesson.  

John has no trouble following his logic this time, and is relieved at the slower pace Flint is using to explain things. He's not dumbing it down by any means, just thoroughly touching on all of the key areas. John listens, nods, and asks questions. He wants Flint to see that he's trying.

Flint then pulls out a few example problems and works on them with John rather than leaving him alone with the new material. Conjugate acids and bases can be confusing, after all.

While John writes, he notices Flint is watching his hands. John's always had a strange pencil grip which many a people have felt the need comment on, so he feels it coming.  

"You're an artist", Flint states instead, with slight head tilt.

 _Oh. The paint._   

There are still blue and yellow smudges across John's fingers, and he's so used to being covered in art materials, he didn't even notice.  

"I am.", he says and stops writing for a moment. "I've been into art since I was young." 

Flint hums and nods as if this makes sense.  

"Music, too.", John adds.   

"You seem like an artist.", Flint tells him.  

"Thank you.", John settles on, never quite knowing what to say when people tell him this.

"I used to draw. Just as a pastime", Flint says, "but I'm sure you're far better than I."  

John feels his face warm at the compliment, and replies modestly that it's just practice. 

Flint just regards him with slight interest, his pale hand spinning his pen around.

"Well, I think that's it for the lesson. Just make sure to watch when you could potentially get them mixed up- it could throw off your later equation."  

He stands and seems to be escorting John out.

"Thanks for the help.", John says and looks up meet the professor's eyes. He smiles genuinely and John likes how it makes the corners of his eyes crinkle. He has a very nicr features and it makes John want to draw him. The freckles would be fun and the shading where-  _No wait, that's weird..._

Flint doesn't seem to guess his thoughts as he returns to his lab.  


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Adventures continue at the Walrus Academy!  
> Whatever troubles could come next?

The next time John sees Flint, he seems to be in an even worse mood than usual. All morning he is short with students and clips his words in annoyance. One girl tries to ask him a question, but he is so short with her that she says, “Nevermind, I’ve got it”, when she still is clearly is confused.

John tries to make eye contact with Flint once, as if to ask him what's wrong. The professor remains focused on the lesson, however, and ignores the tension that he has created in the room.

John decides to ask him about it after class, simply because he had helped John, and so he feels inclined to return the favor. After the class is over, he hangs back, pretending to rearrange his binders in his bag, then saunters up to the professor.

Flint has reclaimed his usual seat at his desk and is busy preparing for the next class. He wears the customary dark blue dress shirt, black slacks, and a simple red and blue striped tie approved by the academy dress code.

He looks up to fuss at whoever is about to disturb him, but his frown relaxes ever so slightly when he sees who it is.

John smiles his side smile and puts on a casual appearance. "Everything alright?”, he asks.

Flint just looks at him. "Fine", he responds after a moment, “just a busy week.”

John nods, for that's all he expected, and mutters a “Have a good day then.”, and leaves Flint alone with his work.

It troubles John all day. _What could be on his mind? And why should I care?_

He thinks back to the first week of class when they were talking about accuracy versus precision, and the experimental process.

Professor Flint had been picking on random students to answer questions and much to his horror, Flint had called his name.

He had been doodling on his paper, and had no clue what the answer could be.

“Um… I really don't know.”, he said. He figured Flint would just move on to the next student like most teachers, but instead he proceeded to give John a hard time in front of the entire class saying, "Sorry, Mr. Silver. Not knowing isn't good enough in my class.”

He allowed John time to come up with an answer and when the boy was still silent, said, "Take a guess, then. Try."

John guessed wrong, of course, and spent the rest of the class hunched down in his seat.

From then on out, John not only resolved to hate the man, but to also to show him he wasn't stupid and that could do better. He was just caught off guard was all.

It wasn't until a month later that John finally began to forgive him for his chiding remark and sucked up his pride to ask him for help when he was tired of struggling.

And now John is here, worrying about problems that aren't his. He tires to put it from his mind.

John’s next class goes well. He likes English, and works with his group on a project for _Moby Dick_.

He's always liked the story, and admired Ishmael’s bravery for setting out on a boat full of strangers on a dangerous journey. John’s not sure if he could do something like that.

He is more than happy to do the drawing for the poster they are going to present, as a pretty girl named Max works on the questions.

She's been one of the only people here who have been nice to John. The same can't be said for the other boy in their group, Jack. He isn't rude per se, but is clearly not interested in being friendly. He only ever hangs out with his girlfriend, Anne, who is a year below them.

John and Max finally get the shaggy haired kid to crack up over a joke and after that he's a bit more pleasant and willing to help. 

John begins to feel a little more at home. Maybe he could grow to like this place.

It isn't until the end of the day, when John is back at his dorm that he notices he must have left his chemistry book in the classroom. He sighs.

It's only six and there's a chance that Professor Flint will still be there so he heads out across the school to check.

To his dismay, the lights are off and the door is locked. _Great. I had homework...maybe Flint will understand? Pft, not likely._

He has no choice but to head back to his room and to dread what is to come.

\-----

John makes a poor decision the next day. He decides to not go to class. If he can just avoid his problems, then everything is solved right? It’s stupid and irresponsible, and John knows it but he does it nonetheless.

Now the natural, logical thing to do while skipping is to just stay in your dorm. Catch up on homework, maybe sleep a little. Sit and think about the universe. The meaning of life. Ah who’s he kidding, where's the fun in that?

So Instead, John decides to head over to the art wing to work on something he enjoys. He knows Lilywhite doesn't have a class right now, so he could just go in and grab his project.

It's nearing the end of first period and he’ll just blend right in with the students on the way back to his dorm. Simple.

He's halfway there, and as he is walking, he hears a voice behind him that makes him stop short.

"First tardies, then forgetting your book and now cutting class?”

John's tan face burns as he whirls around. He can't believe his luck this week. _What the hell is Flint even doing in this part of the school?_

“Oh, and out of dress code too.” Flint tilts his mouth in a would be smile, if it weren't so cruelly mocking.

John hadn't bothered to put on his tie since he was just going on a quick trip. He gives a sort of guilty shrug and does his best to look innocent, blue eyes gleaming.

Flint beckons for John to follow him back to the lab and John starts to bite his fingernails out of habbit.

The bell rings shortly after they arrive, releasing the class, but not before they see John following the professer like a puppy that's just been scolded.

Flint crosses the room to his desk in the corner of the room, and opens one of the drawers. John hopes it's just another worksheet.

Flint returns with a pink half sheet of paper.

A detention slip.

John can't believe it. He trusted that they were fri- well not _friends_ exactly but at least had some sort of mutual understanding.

"You know why I'm doing this?", Flint asks, filling out the piece of paper.

"Because...I messed up”, John replies.

"More or less. It's to teach you that there are consequences. That you can't just disregard the rules because it's an easy way out.”

He hands it to John.

"Now go on to your next class."

He places a large hand on John’s shoulder to gently push him out towards the hall.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks again! Hope you liked it. Can't wait to share the next installment :)


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> John makes a friend. Sort of.

His detention slip says that he is to spend three afternoons in the library after school. It’s Friday, so that means he’ll have the weekend to break the sessions up, at least.

John is pleased to find that detention is really not bad at all. It gives him a reason to get his homework done at least, and when he finishes, he can draw. Pretty lenient of them. His old school would have been much harsher. Maybe he could get used to this rich kid lifestyle...

John looks around at the other kids sitting at the tables. Most are notorious troublemakers and appear to be quite comfortable here.

Charles Vane, a long haired boy a year above John, sits with his feet kicked up on the table until the librarian scolds him and tells him to show some respect.

Ms. Barlow, the librarian, seems surprised to see John here today; normally he just comes in for books and the peace and quiet. She likes the bright, young artist as he is unlike some of the other rabble she has to tolerate. 

On queue, she has to tell Vane to stop flicking bits of paper across the room to his friend, Ned. John hides a laugh with a cough, and Charles glares at him.

This is certainly more entertaining than John thought it would be. If only he wern’t so hungry. His stomach growls and he wishes he had eaten more than a mere snack for lunch.

The “No Food or Drink in the Library” rule seems even more annoying than usual. _Why can't you read and snack at the same time? It would be so nice..._

He spends the rest of the time sketching elaborate bowls of fruit which does nothing to silence his stomach.

Finally the kids are released, and before he can grab his stuff and get out of there, Charles Vane snatches up his paper and inspects it.

“Huh. I’ll be damned. These are really good”, he says with a crooked smile. “What else can you draw?”

“Well I might have shown you if you’d been a little more courteous”, John snaps, trying to snatch the paper back.

Vane scoffs. “Oh relax. Here.”, he tells John, and hands him back his drawings.

“I’m Vane.”

“I know.”

Vane narrows his eyes and looks down at John who stands a whole head shorter than him.

“Well, I'm going to go now. You see, I haven't eaten since breakfast.”, John says, lightly and puts on his backpack.

“You didn't introduce yourself”, Vane points out.

“Silver”, John replies, mimicking the way the older boy had said his name.

“Alright, then.”, Vane replies.

As John is walking away, he hears a, “Have a nice dinner, _John_.”

_Asshole._

\-----

John’s decision making skills have been a little off lately, to say the least. For example, he chooses to hang out with Vane on Sunday afternoon.

Vane had been sitting in one of the commons areas when he caught sight of Silver, and asked him if he wanted to go walk around. John was a bit reluctant at first, as he didn’t want to be seen associating with the rebel, but he was also lonely enough to agree.

They decide to go outside and are enjoying the nice warm day, when Vane pulls out a cigarette and puts it between his lips.

“Want one?”, he asks Silver.

John shrugs and accepts. The two sit against a brick wall of the academy, puffing out plumes of smoke. They don't talk much, because they're not really friends. 

John hasn't had a cigarette in forever, and revels in the the strange way it catches in his throat, and how the smoke floats up against the blue sky.

There's nobody else out here but them, and John thinks Vane might ask him something like why he’s here, or why he doesn’t have any friends. Or something even more embarrassing. He doesn’t though. He just stares up at the clouds, so John returns the courtesy of leaving him alone.

After a while, John gets up and starts to head back inside after thanking Vane for sharing his contraband. He hopes he doesn't make a habit of it- the smoking _and_ the associating with Vane. Although, he doesn't seem as bad as people say. 

John goes back to his room, and listens to music and plays his guitar for the rest of the day.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading this little update! Things will start to heat up in the next chapter, if you know what I mean ;)


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Please read all tags!! Enjoy, kids :)

Chemistry class is dry as usual on Monday morning, though they get to do a lab for a change. John always likes using the burners, and takes his time heating a saline solution in an evaporating dish. The goal is to determine the molality of the solution, which takes several steps and careful hands.

He and Billy are working together and have become good acquaintances, though both boys think they can demonstrate the process better. John is convinced he will win with this trial, and Billy looms over him, telling him to watch the flame.

As Flint walks around watching everyone's progress, he shakes his head at the two of them. “It’s not a competition, boys, it's a lab.”, he tells them.

“Oh, but it's always a competition.”, John mutters, still concentrating.

Flint just rolls his eyes and Billy takes the opportunity to start setting up the next test.

The rest of the week is uneventful, and John's third day of detention is over before he knows it.

On Friday after school, John heads over to the lab to ask Professor Flint a quick question. The conversions are giving him trouble again and it's almost seven but Flint is usually there late grading papers and working on upcoming lessons.

As John reaches the room at the end of the hallway, he sees the room is semi-dark, and the door is cracked. He can't see through the little window if Flint is in or not, so he knocks.

After a moment, the door opens and Flint looks mildly surprised to see John standing outside.

John barely comes up to his chest as they stare at each other. He notices Flint’s shirt is untucked and his tie is loosened. John's never actually seen the man relax before, and it seems a bit out of the ordinary. Flint brushes a ginger hair away from his face.

“May I help you with something, Mr. Silver?"

John swallows and forces away the instinctual reply of, _Oh. I think there might be a thing or two._ _What the hell is wrong with him..._

"Um...I just had a question, but I can come back later or-"

 "No, it's fine.", Flint cuts in and opens the door to let him in.

John walks in and wonders why it's so dark. The overhead lights are off and the room is only lit by a lamp in the corner.

“I had a headache,” Flint explains when he sees John looking around. John nods understandingly and follows Flint to the table at the front of the room with the mirror overhead so students can watch him demonstrate experiments.

"What is it you wanted to ask?"

_Oh right that._

John has sort of forgotten what it was by now for some reason.

"Oh. Yes. Um actually I don't remember now but I can come back when I do.”, he says, looking for an escape.

Flint gives him a far too smug look. John shouldn't like it. He shouldn't feel his face redden from it. He should just turn calmly around and leave and forget about this. Whatever this was. Maybe it's actually nothing.

But instead he licks his lips nervously, and stays rooted to the spot.

"How was detention?", Flint asks putting some papers into a folder.

_Bastard._

"Oh, quite pleasant really. I think I learned a lot in there,” John tells him.

Flint’s eyes glint in the low lighting.  
"Did you, now? Well I see you didn't learn much about respect."

John swallows and feels the heat his gaze. He has to look down.

“Come to think of it, you seem to have little respect for the rules. If I recall, I remember a little scene involving Charles Vane and a cigarette not too long ago.”

John stiffens and his eyes widen.

_How could he possibly know that? He must really have nothing better to do with his life…_

“You see, I’ve been thinking that a different sort of discipline is needed for particular students.", Flint continues conversationally, still busy organizing his papers.

"Oh.", John says after a moment. His eyebrows knit together.

“Students like me?”

"Like you.", Flint confirms.

John is unsure what he means exactly, but thinks he can figure it out.

“And what sort of discipline is that?”, John asks, hating that it sounds younger and more innocent than he meant it to.

Flint pauses, then sets down his folder and paces around the table to circle behind John who stands completely still because somehow he knows he's supposed to. 

John hears the sharp clicks of the professor’s shoes and his heart quickens as the man speaks again, deliberately.

"Would you be willing to learn is the question.", Flint's voice says from behind him.

John turns his head to the side, towards Flint. He takes a breath.

"That depends on what you're attempting to teach me."

With that, Flint reaches out and places his hands on John’s shoulders, then slides them down to lightly brush along his arms.

His hands are rough and warm, and adrenaline rushes through John pooling in his chest.

Flint brings John's hands behind him, holding his wrists one hand, using just enough pressure to make it uncomfortable. He lifts his other hand and tucks a curl behind John’s ear, then bends to speak.

"Will you be good, Mr. Silver?”

Goosebumps rise on the back of John’s neck."Yes", he whispers, still in shock.

"Yes, what?", Flint asks, tightening his grip on John’s wrists.

"Yes, _Sir._ ", John says voice a bit strained.

"Good." Flint says.

John hears the sound of shifting fabric and feels something smooth and cool slide over his wrists, tying them together where Flint’s hand had kept them in place.

Once the knot is secure, the professor walks around John and faces the boy. John swallows and can't make himself look up at the professor.

Flint reaches out and gently places his fingers below John’s chin, tilting his face up. John can only imagine how red it is. He sees that Flint’s tie is gone, and as he suspected it is what binds his wrists. John glances at the bit of exposed skin at the hollow of Flint's neck and chews at his bottom lip.

Flint runs his eyes over the boy, taking him in and gauging what to do next.

“Go shut the door.”, Flint tells him.

“But my hands-”

“Do as I say, please.”

John does. He crosses the room and shoves a shoulder into the door. He knows it locks on the outside as all the doors in the school.

He cautiously moves back to Flint who is standing with his hands behind his back in military fashion. It reminds John of the position that he was put in, only the circumstances are quite different.

Flint calmly reguards him, then without warning, John is being spun around and pressed face down onto a lab table. He yelps in surprise and Flint keeps him there with a palm on the flat of John’s back. Not pressing down too hard, just enough to hold him in place.

“Do you know why I'm doing this, Mr. Silver?”, Flint asks, and trails his fingers down the ridges of John’s spine.

“I broke the rules, Sir.”, John bites out. He’s not so sure he likes being forced into this position.

“Not only that, though.”, Flint prompts.

“I...I disrespected you.”

“Yes. You did. Many times. And did you learn anything from it?”

“I think I might have now, Sir.”

Flint chuckles softly. “Not yet, but we will see..”, he says. “What do you think a good punishment would be, Mr. Silver?”

John’s face flushes again and the table is cold against his cheek. The juxtaposition of the cruel words and the hand stroking his back is too much.

“I don’t exactly know…”, John tells him softly.

Flint pushes down on his back hard, reminding him.

“ _Sir_!”, John adds quickly. He will remember from now on.

Flint relieves the pressure and moves his hand lower down John’s back, below his tied hands. John's shirt is riding up and he can feel the cool air of the room.

“Hmmm... let’s see...you don’t have any ideas?”, Flint asks, lightly brushing past the exposed skin.

John shivers, then gives him what he wants, even though shames him to no end.

“I think a spanking would be an appropriate punishment, Sir.” John tries not to think about the irony.

“Is that so?”, Flint taunts, and John nods, his hair falling over his eyes.

“Very well then…but the polite thing to do would be to say ‘ _Please_.’”

“What?”, John exclaims.

“Ask nicely. You promised you would be good.”, Flint insists, and he’s glad John can’t see the smile cutting across his face.

John sighs.

“Please...will you spank me, Sir?”, John says finally, making it sound a little too rehearsed with his breathiness.

“Very well, since you asked so nicely.”, Flint obliges.

John prepares himself, then he's confused as the hand on his back is removed, and he is let up.

Flint then takes a seat in the chair at the table, and settles his feet flat on the floor. He raises an eyebrow at John who comes closer. John tentatively begins to lay himself down on Flint's lap, but Flint stops him and motions for him to stand back up.

“Trying to get away easy?”, Flint chides.

He grasps John’s belt loops and pulls him closer, and begins to undo his trousers while making eye contact with the boy who's eyes are dark in the low lighting. John’s breath hitches.

Flint lets his trousers fall, but doesn't remove his boxers. He pats his lap, and John tries to settle himself into a comfortable position, his stomach pressing into the Flint's thighs. His heart is racing and blood rushes to his head as he's bent over.

He’s slightly afraid that Flint will just start laying into him without warning, but the professor allows John to situate himself and he adjusts John slightly, widening his legs and scooting John up a little higher. The shift makes John's half hard cock press against Flint's leg and he tries to shift away, but Flint holds him still.

“Now,” Flint says, “how many shall you receive?” He runs a hand down the boy’s back. Silver just gulps.

“Let's see, how many times have you intentionally broken the rules? Hm, too many to count, I should think...but would you agree that five would be a happy medium?”

“Yes, Sir.”, John says, his voice muffled from the way his hair falls over his face.

Flint loves it.

“Very well.”, the answer comes.

Flint deftly pulls the back of John’s boxers down, and finds himself wanting to settle a hand on John’s small ass. He doesn't. Not yet. This is meant to be a lesson. So instead, he pulls his hand back and holds it up above John.

The anticipation is worse than the actual strike, John realizes, though it still stings and brings tears to his eyes.

The second one follows shortly after and the loud smack resounds through the room. John jumps, and Flint strokes his back lightly with his other hand.

Oddly enough, the pain does nothing to quell John’s erection and neither does the fact that when he’s hit, it makes him automatically press down with his hips to avoid the blow.

Flint brings down the next strike a little harder than the last, and the boy squeaks and bites his lip hard, jerking his tied hands up.

Flint gives in and lets his hand rest where he had hit, and rubs the pink flesh to try and erase some of the sting.

John can't keep himself from groaning at the next hit, which nearly knocks the wind from him. He's certain Flint can feel how hard he is through his pants.

Flint massages his sensitive skin once more before giving him the final sharp blow. John’s takes it well, but his ass burns like fire and his nose runs involuntarily. Not to mention his cock is leaking.

Flint rubs over the marks rising on John’s skin. He watches several red handprints form, as John's body calms down.

John thinks if Flint had spanked him once more, he would have come on the man's lap without even being touched. 

He breathes out slowly and Flint tells him how good he was. Eventually, he pulls John’s boxers up, unties his hands, and helps the boy stand.

John tries to hide himself, but it doesn't keep Flint from noticing the wet spot, and the matching one on his own pant leg.

Mortified doesn't even begin to describe John’s expression.

Flint raises his eyebrows as if to say,  _Well would you look that._

John begins to apologize, unsure what else to do. “I-I’m sorry, Sir...I don't know why…”

This has all been so far beyond Flint’s expectations, for a moment he's at a loss for words.

“It appears you have learned something after all, but not quite what I expected.” He tilts up his lips in a half smile.

Flint stands. “You did very well, John. I trust that you will take great lengths to stay out trouble from now on?”

“I’ll try, Sir.”, he says.

“Hm. You may put your trousers back on.”

“Thank you, Sir.”

“And you understand that this is something that stays between us? A personal arrangement, if you will.”

“Of course Sir, I understand.”

John wouldn't dare tell.

“Lovely. You may go.”

“Thank you, Sir.”, John says while walking towards the door. His hardness makes it uncomfortable.

“Oh and if you ever remember what you were going to ask me, please stop by.”, Flint tells him with a hint of flirtation, and John knows that chemistry class will finally be more interesting from now on.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Oh wow i can't believe I wrote this but anyways....


	5. Chapter 5

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> How does John feel after his punishment?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Welcome back! I'm having too much fun with this and the feedback has been so nice! Thanks everyone!

John gets back to his room, lays down his stuff, and heads to the showers immediately. The whole floor of the building uses them but thankfully, there is no one else in the washroom.

As John gets undressed, he looks down to see what he already knows: he is still painfully hard. He steps in the shower and lets it wash over him. The warm water burns the raw marks on his ass.

He begins to touch himself, and all he can imagine is Flint’s hands all over him, stroking him like this, and he comes quickly under the hot stream of water.

He wonders if Flint will do the same... Or perhaps the man just enjoys inflicting pain. It was sick and twisted and John loved every minute of it. The way he had been restrained. How Flint had put him exactly where he wanted him. How he had rubbed his erection into the professor’s leg.

John had thought about things like this before, but never dreamed his fantasies would come true. And he wants _more._

John wants to be at the complete mercy of this man. He wants Flint to hurt him again, which somehow lead to pleasure. He had never experienced anything remotely similar, and it puts him on edge again just thinking about it.

Flint had warned him to stay out of trouble or there would be consequences. Well then, John will just have to be bad.

\-----

John doesn't sleep well that night. He keeps replaying the encounter in his mind until he finally drifts off to sleep. When he wakes, he feels that he is hard again. He decides to ignore it.

His ass feels much better, but when he prods it he can still feel the slightly raised finger marks splayed across his cheeks. 

Randall is still sleeping in the twin bed on the other side of the room as John gets up. He’s snoring and only wakes to mutter something at John as he makes a bit of noise while getting dressed. _Always so grumpy._

John makes his way downstairs and across the quad in search of breakfast. He sits with Max and her friend Idelle, a pretty dark haired girl.

They talk and gossip, and John is glad to finally have some friends. Max is busy spreading a rumour about Headmistress Guthrie, when John sees Vane watching him from across the cafeteria. Jack and Anne are with him and they are all glace over at John.

Max stops chatting for a moment and follows his gaze.

“Do not worry about them. They just want to cause trouble.”, she says in her pretty accent.

“I’m not.”, John says, still watching.

_Hm. Trouble…_

The rest of the weekend goes by quickly. John does his work and puts some time into improving his art skills. Today, he sketches people he knows. He loves the freedom of gesture drawing and works on different positions and proportions.

He starts to draw a face, but noone in particular. He focuses on his firm jawline, and adds light stubble, and piercing eyes.

It's Flint, of course. He looks younger in the drawing, though John places him somewhere in his twenties. He looks less stressed standing at a three-quarter style view, as if he's ooking out a window and contemplating something. There's a hint of proudness in the tilt of his chin.

 He looks downright charming if John does say so himself.

He lets out a sigh and closes his sketchbook.

He’s so screwed.

\-----

As John knew he would, Flint treats him like every other student on Monday. John knows the reasoning, but he can't help feeling a little let down. How can Flint act like nothing happened when John blushes every time the man looks at him?

So John does his best to act like nothing has changed.

_Two can play it that game._

This week turns out to be a stressful one. He has three tests and also college entrance exams to prepare for. He is able to make it through step by step. Thankfully, the tests were in English and Psychology and History which are all subjects he likes. His history score wasn't as high as he was hoping for, but at least he passed.

It's Friday afternoon again before he knows it- a week since what happened in Flint’s lab.

He misses the anticipation of going to see Professor Flint. There is no reason for it now, as he is finally understanding the material. Maybe it just took getting slapped wicked hard on the ass.

That evening, John grows bored with sitting and reading in the commons room of his dorm, and gets up out of his comfy chair to walk around. Students aren't supposed to be wandering the halls at this hour, but it's never stopped him before.

John likes this place better without all of teenagers crowding the halls. It really is a pretty campus with high ceilings and old architecture. The modern technology they have integrated to make the academy meet education standards is nice, but John thinks the building looks best unchanged with it's wooden doors and columned entrances.

He's only been here for a half a year, but he still likes the buildings more than most of the people. He walks without purpose,  roaming the halls and looking out the windows past the tree surrounded grounds. 

John sees a figure cross the hall that intersects the one he's on and he freezes. At first he thinks the person didn’t see him but then, they step back into view.

He's half expecting, but instead he sees a woman coming toward him.

_Ms. Barlow._

"John? Where are you off to? You know you're not supposed to be out this late.”, she says.

“Oh right, sorry. I’ll just go back then.” He makes a move to leave.

“Is there something troubling you?”, she asks, stopping him.

“No, it's nothing.”

She looks at him somewhat suspiciously.

“Well, maybe it is. It's just that I’m still rather new here and, to be honest, not everyone seems to like me.”

“They will”, she tells him kindly, “you're just unique and they don't know how to react just yet. They're used to the same types of people flowing in and out of here and you seem to challenge that current.”

John smiles at the kind words.

“Is that all that's troubling you?”, she asks.

He trusts her.

“Well not necessarily.”, he says, lowering his voice and looking around.

“Listen, can I ask you about something? Or... about _someone_ , actually?”

She frowns trying to understand what he's getting at.

“I’ll tell you what I can.”, she finally says.

“Alright. It's about Professor Flint. What do you know of him?”

She thinks for a moment.

“Flint...I know he has worked here for a number of years and he teaches Chemistry. He keeps to himself but he’s nice enough”

She’s not telling him everything. He can tell and it's his turn to frown at her now.

“Oh alright”, she mutters, “but this is between us."

“James and I used to be quite close, actually. No, not quite as you're thinking, but we did rely on each other for some time. You see, we both lost someone we held very dear to us and he’s not quite been the same since.”, she trails off.

John nods, putting pieces together.

“Why did you ask?”

“I just knew he had a hard past and wanted to know why.”

It’s an honest answer.

“Thank you for telling me", he says, "I promise not to mention it to anyone.”

“Yes. That would be appreciated.” She smiles. “Now go on back to your dorm. I don't want you to get caught out here.”

He grins and makes his way back across the campus.

_This school just seems to be teeming with secrets._


	6. Chapter 6

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> John gets to attend a party at the academy.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry I've been gone, it's been a crazy few days. hopefully things will settle down now. enjoy the update :)

Nothing out of the ordinary has happened with Flint since two weeks ago. They both act as if everything is normal, though John is inexplicably annoyed at him.

On Tuesday, John is invited to a party. How it is that a bunch of private school prep kids know how to throw a party is beyond him, but he receives an invitation from Billy nonetheless.

He and Max talk excitedly about it all week, and by the time Saturday rolls around, John can hardly wait.

The party's being hosted by some upperclassmen boys from the dorm across from John’s but that's about all he really knows about it. That and it starts at ten thirty to ensure that nobody is caught outside by patrolling teachers.

It's almost ten now, and John is getting ready. He's still a bit nervous about the whole event and almost decides to not go. John loves a good party but what if it isn't what he is expecting? He still hardly knows anyone, and he doubts there will be any alcohol or anything since most of the kids here are so clean cut. Not mention the danger of getting caught which would be another dent in his record. Then, there was always the possibility of Flint finding out…

John makes up his mind, opening the door and heading downstairs. The dorms are set up like apartments, so all he has to do is walk right across the grass and up to the next building.

He glances around him and relaxes when he sees nobody is in sight. There's just the glow of lamplight and the darkness apart from it as he treads down the sidewalk. As he gets closer, he sees a few other kids heading into the building.

He hopes it will be fun. He could use some fun.

\-----

It doesn’t take long to get inside. He follows a group in and sees that the party has taken up most of the building and the commons room has been transformed into a dance floor.

The building must be pretty soundproof because the music sounds a lot louder inside.There are kids everywhere. Couches were arranged and pulled into the corners and there's even a snack table. John is pretty impressed.

It's strange to see all of these semi-familiar faces dressed in regular clothes, talking loudly to each other, and having a good time. A girl stumbles into John and her friend pulls her away laughing.

He isn't sure what to do, so he heads over to the snacks and nibbles on some pretzels. Soon, Max spots him and fights her way through the crowd to say hello.

“Glad you decided to come!”, she has to raise her voice over the music. “Come on!”, she says and drags him away by the arm. She introduces him to her friends and he tries to make polite conversation.

John doesn't have much interest in dancing so he and Max head over to a corner where John spies Jack Rackham reclining on a sofa. Jack lives in this dorm, John recalls.

They chat for a bit, until there's a lull in the conversion and Jack suggests that they all go upstairs 'where the real party is'. So John follows them up, hoping it will be fun.

Doors are flung open and kids are wandering in and out of the rooms as they please. The group wades through until they get to a room on the second floor. John is surprised to detect the smell of cigarettes when he walks in.

Inside, reclining in a soft chair, is none other than Charles Vane, who is currently surrounded by several girls. There are beers and ashtrays the table. This looks more like the sort of party John is used to.

He notices Anne sitting on the other couch and Jack sinks into the furniture, wrapping his arm around her.

John takes a seat in an uncomfortable wooden chair and Vane offers him a beer.

“How did you even smuggle these in here?", John asks.

“I have connections.”, Vane replies with a mischievous smile.

John accepts and after downing half of it, finally starts to have a good time. The group jokes and laughs and Jack pulls out some playing cards.

John is very good at cards so he cracks his knuckles and holds own in a couple of games. He's not sure if he's had three or four beers by now but he's getting pretty tipsy as he yells out “Bullshit!” and wins the game as Max displays her hand. John only grows louder as Billy finds his way to the small room, and settles down to play a round.

The rest of the night is a blur of smoking and laughing, and inappropriate joking. 

At some point, Max is sitting on John's lap, but nothing happens between them. He knows that she prefers girls anyways, and he isn't even sure what he prefers. But he knows he likes one thing for sure...

John’s thoughts stray to Flint. John wishes he could see him right now. He wants to be near Flint. He wants Flint to do everything to him…

John jumps and realizes someone is talking to him.

“What?”, he says sluggishly.

“I _said_ , what are you thinking about, mate?”

John realizes it's Billy that's asking. 

“Flint.”, he replies, and smiles wide.

Billy just laughs.

The night is coming to an end, and since Max is a little more sober than John, she decides she better get him back to his dorm.

They say goodbye and John tries to give everyone a rather sloppy kiss on the cheek, which they accept in varying degrees.

Jack is pretty far gone and just lets it happen while Billy gives him a weird look. Vane firmly holds John at arms length as John approaches, and one glare from Anne makes him think better of it. 

He laughs and follows Max out of the room, stumbling down the stairs. He doesn't remember the trip back to his dorm, but he pictures it looked pretty amusing with a frustrated Max leading, and a swerving John in tow.

When they get to his room, she says goodnight and leaves him to collapse onto his bed. He sleeps soundly the whole night through in his drunken state.

The morning comes too quickly and when pries his eyes open, he shuts them again quickly. He has a headache and doesn’t feel so great for some reason.

For a moment he doesn't remember what happened, and it takes a moment for the events of last night to flood back to him. He hopes he didn't do anything too stupid...oh well, it was fun.

He spends the day resting and recovering. He is not looking forward to his early morning classes tomorrow. 


	7. Chapter 7

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> John gets into a bit of trouble....

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ah hello again! sorry my updates are inconsistent but school has been picking up lately, you see. thanks!

_Professor Lilywhite, may we please have John Silver in the office for a moment, please?_

 

John sits up stick straight when he hears his name. _Oh no..._

He takes his time walking to the main office, near the entrance of the school. It’s not the first time he's been in trouble but that doesn’t make it any easier as he pulls open the heavy wooden door.

The receptionist points him down a narrow hall to the first door on the left: Headmistress Guthrie’s office.

John has met the pretty blonde woman before when he first started attending Walrus Academy. He thinks she looks rather young to be in charge of such a prestigious institution, but she seems to know how to keep this place running. She is nice, in a very businesslike way but John also suspects it would be unwise to anger her.

He takes a deep breath as he knocks on her door.

“Come in.”

He slips inside to see her sitting at her large desk with many papers scattered about. She's leaned over and scribbling with a pen. John takes a seat in the chair across from her. She stops writing and acknowledges him after a moment.

“Good morning, Mr. Silver. Are you aware why I've called you here?”, she says.

_Yes._

“No, ma’am.”

“It’s about some events taking place on Saturday night I’m sure you've heard of.”

He is silent at first.

“Yes, I know about the party.”, he admits looking down.

_Not much use in lying about that. Everyone knows._

“Yes, well I was hoping you would have some information pertaining to it. I've heard about the party from a number of people, and as I’m sure you know, the organization of such an event is against the academy rules. I have also heard rumor of alcohol being present, which not only is against our rules, but also the law. Would you know anything about this?”

John racks his brain to figure a way out of this one.

“I was there”, he says, looking guilty, “but I didn't see any alcohol. I just went to try to make some friends. I didn't stay long…”.

She scans his face, trying to determine if he's telling the truth. He seems like a fairly decent young man. Not the type to get into trouble intentionally.

“Can you tell me anything else, then? Perhaps who else was there that might have witnessed it?”

He looks up and lifts a hand to run his chin.

“Let's see, I'm not great with names. But everyone in that building was there, obviously. And I saw mostly upperclassmen.” He shrugs.

“And how about Charles Vane, was he there?”

“I believe I might have seen him. Though he lives in that building...”

“Hm. Alright. That will be all then. Thank you.” She turns back to her work, dismissing him and he gets up from the leather chair.

“I'm not in trouble?”, he asks tentatively.

“Well I could put half of the school in detention but what good would that do? It would just inspire a sort of rebellion, most likely. So for the time being: No, Mr. Silver, you are not in any trouble.”

John nods. “Thank you, Headmistress.”  

He leaves.

\-----

Frankly, he can't believe that he's not in any real trouble. The Headmistress looked as if she believed him and he hopes that his friends won't betray his falsehoods.

One thing is for certain: If the Headmistress knows about the party, then John would bet his ass that Flint does. Looks like he finally stirred up some trouble, though it wasn't his fault in all honesty.

Chemistry class goes normally, though John is a little more jumpy than usual when Flint walks by.

“What's wrong?”, Billy whispers from across the table.

“Nothing…” John passes him a note to explain what transpired so that Billy can stick to his story if he’s questioned.

Flint walks around, passing back papers and catches John’s eye in a way that he hasn't in quite some time as he places John’s paper face down in front of him.

When John looks at it, he sees there is a note on the front, scrawled in red pen reading,  _See me after class._ John knows it's not because of his grade, since he made a 'B' on the assignment.

\-----

John stays after class like Flint told him to. His heart is already beating quickly even though he knows Flint can't do anything now since it’s the middle of the school day. Once everyone else is out of the class, Flint walks over to him and crosses his arms.

“Oh, Mr. Silver, you've been into trouble again haven't you?”

John swallows.

“I don’t know, I suppose it depends on what you mean.”

“I believe you know what I’m referring to”, Flint says. Seeing as I have a class in five minutes, come by and see me at the end of the day if you will.”

“Sounds good to me.”, John says and grins wickedly.

He leaves without looking back.

The day can't go by quickly enough for John. He checks the clock far too frequently and it is a relief when the last bell rings.

Well sort of a relief, depending on what Flint has planned for him. He's so nervous he can't contain it.

This time the door is open when he reaches Flint’s lab and he walks right in, subtlety shutting it behind him.

Flint looks up from his laptop and John feels a rush of nerves.

Flint takes off his reading glasses and says, “So, would you like to share what sort of trouble you’ve gotten yourself into recently?”

“Well, not particularly.”, John says, knowing he's pushing his luck.

Flint bores holes in him with his stare.

“Come here, if you will.”, he says cooly.

John slowly steps forward until he's only about a foot away from the still sitting professor.

“Do you not remember what I taught you about _respect_ and how to properly address me, Mr. Silver? I am always polite when speaking to you and would appreciate the same courtesy.”

John feigns shame. “Right. Sorry, Sir.”

“Such disrespect," Flint clicks. “Take your trousers off”. 

John’s face flushes at the sudden command and he obeys, bringing his fingers to the button. He already feels himself getting hard as he unzips, and it is obvious through the dark fabric of his boxers.

His toes his shoes off and steps out of his trousers, which had gathered at his ankles.

Flint looks infuriatingly normal, sitting calmly as he waves for John to step closer. Before he thinks too much about it, John bends to lay across the man’s lap like last time. Flint lets him at first, then changes his mind and pulls John back up to standing. 

Flint reaches around the nervous boy for his laptop on his desk to put it in a drawer. John watches patiently as he clears some other things away to create some empty space.

Flint then guides John to turn around and to place his hands flat on the desk.

“Keep them there.”, he says, his voice gravelly.

John shivers and stands very still. _This is good, but he wants more..._

He cranes his neck around to look at Flint and stammers as he asks his question.

“Wait, Sir, shoul- _may_ I take my shirt off as well? It's awfully hot in here you see, and I was just wondering...perhaps you would prefer me like that?" He grows even redder and lowers his eyes.

Flint doesn't allow the boy to see his surprise at the request. It was very bold of him and oh, so polite. Flint intends to reward him for it.

Rather than answer him, Flint spins him around and starts to work off his tie, brows scrunched with focus. John gasps and feels burning embarrassment when Flint finally edges his white shirt open and their eyes meet.

Flint can't believe how attractive John looks with his dark blue eyes, messy curls, and open shirt, and he regrets, not for the first time, that the boy is still so young.

He tosses John’s shirt in his chair and turns around to find the that John is back in the original position with his hands on the desk. _A quick learner._

Flint takes a deep breath, savoring this moment. He can't stop himself from reaching out and stroking a line down the boy’s perfect back. Flint loves how it makes John shiver.

“So, are you going to tell me what you've done?”, Flint asks him.

“I...went to the party, “John breathes, “I snuck out."

"What else?"

"There was alcohol there and I drank. A lot... and then I lied about it.”

This was nothing Flint hadn't already guessed.

“Not only breaking the school rules but the law as well. What shall we do with you?”, he teases and trails his hand down to squeeze John’s ass.

John bites his lip and closes his eyes.

“I believe a spanking would do again, Sir”, John whispers, then remembers his manners and adds a soft, _“Please.”_

Flint hums, takes a moment to loosen his tie to get more comfortable, then yanks down the boys underwear. Now his pretty student is fully naked, bracing against his desk, asking to be punnished. It's all too good to be true.

“You were insolent and disobedient", Flint pushes apart the boy’s thighs to widen his stance. 

“Yes, Sir.”, John forces out.

“You'll learn. What do you say to ten this time?”

John nods and Flint gives his ass a firm slap.

John takes the punishment, standing still for the most part and wimpering only slightly. With each hit, he feels himself growing harder. His eyes start to water after the fifth hit and his breathing is ragged. Flint clutches his hip to still him with one hand, and strikes hard with the other.

John’s cock rubs uncomfortably on the edge of the desk, but it's still friction, and he’s soon afraid he'll come with next hit.

“P-Please, Sir! I think I might…”

Flint rubs a hand over his bright red ass. 

“No you won't,” he says, “not until I tell you you can.”, and he receives another hit.

John is trembling now, struggling to keep his hands flat and elbows straight, and and after the ninth hit, when he cries out, Flint finally moves the hand clutching the boy’s hip around to stroke him. He strokes slowly and steadily. John is wet at the tip and Flint rubs the precome around, teasing the slit with his thumb, and using the rest of his hand to slide down the length.

John can't think. Flint is touching him and he thinks he's going to explode. He bucks forward, thrusting into the warm hand.

Flint loosens his grip.

"Ask."

So John yells out a slurred question sounding something like, “P _lease-mayicomsir!”_

“You may.", Flint says and gives him the final spank. John comes hard all over the wooden desk. His knees go weak and Flint holds him up until he's able to stand.

John opens his eyes and looks down at himself. Shame floods through him...what will Flint think? He turns, with wide eyes to look over his shoulder at the man who is wearing an unreadable expression.

“Oh, you truly are a naughty boy.”, Flint tells John who is still breathing hard, hands still flat and red ass in the air.

Flint reaches to the corner of his desk for a tissue which he wipes his hand off with. John frantically grabs for another to wipe the desk dry.

“You may sit.”, Flint says, and John balances himself on the edge of the desk while Flint hands him his shirt to cover himself with. 

“I’m sorry, Sir, I just couldn't help it…”

He sounds scared, like he expects Flint will punish him.

Flint tries to sofen his expression.

“Have you ever been touched like that by anyone before?”, Flint asks.

“No, Sir…I haven't. And I don’t know why the spanking makes me…”

“Pain and pleasure can sometimes hand in hand”, Flint explains, “If they are administered properly.”

John nods, seeing the truth in this. 

"Thank you Sir, for explaining. And for...", John smiles shyly. 

Flint thinks his heart might melt. He didn't want to become this attached to the boy. It's too dangerous.

"You are welcome. You're free to go, Mr. Silver. Please stay out of trouble." _Or don't_.

John gets dressed and says that he will, though his eyes say otherwise.


	8. Chapter 8

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Why the hell would he insult Charles Vane like that?

John awakes the next morning feeling happier than he has in weeks. Despite it being a weekday, he springs out of bed and heads for the showers, whistling as he walks down the hall.

He is only slightly sore from yesterday's spanking, but he finds he rather enjoys the feeling as it serves as a reminder of all the things Flint does to him. He smiles to himself all morning.

Chemistry goes by fairly easily, though John has to force himself to focus on the work and to stop picturing Flint and himself in licentious situations. He notices Flint still has the skill of acting completely natural, even when their eyes meet and John thinks he feels more more heat behind the gaze than there really is.

He can't help but watch the professor’s every movement and admire his tall, toned build. The way he paces around with his hands folded firmly behind his back and the little bit of skin visible at the hollow of his throat, right above his tie. 

For once, Flint catches John’s glance and smirks.

_This is only going to get worse from here…_

_\-----_

After a pleasant rest of the day, John decides to go on back to his dorm to get some studying out of the way. He heads out a side door to use his favorite shortcut that connects the two buildings. It's really a loading dock for the academy, but it's hardly ever being used so students use it to cross all the time.

As he's walking, he spots a few older boys leaning against the brick wall across from him. At the center of the group is Vane.

John smiles in greeting, but immediately wipes it off his face when they start to come near him, looking severe.

“Hello, Silver.”, Vane greets silkily.

“Oh, hello, Vane.” John just smiles politey the other boys since he doesn't know their names. He starts to sweat as he assumes the worst.

“Something I can help you with?”

Vane crosses his arms and pretends to think.

“Ah yes, now that you mention it, I heard a regalig tale earilier about you ratting me out to Guthrie like the little bitch you are.”

John swallows.

“Oh, no. You misunderstand. I assure you I only said you might have been there along with many others.” John uses his hands to gesture as he explains.

“Well regardless of what you _said,_  I’m being linked to several offences, thanks to you and your smart mouth. I'm likely to be expelled. Or worse.”

“What? No! That isn't my fault simply because I talked to the Headmistress. I was actually trying to protect you by not giving her a forthright answer. Besides, they would have found out anyways, since you were so careless about the whole thing. And you probably only do all of it for the attention. Perhals you weren't trusted or allowed to have any fun at home and are acting out to-”.

John bites his tongue as Vane’s eyes narrow to slits.

 _He_ really _should have stopped talking._

John looks around frantically and thinks about making a break for it, but Vane grabs the front of his shirt, fist wrinkling the material as he leans down menacingly.

“Fuck. You.”, he snarls then shoves John down to the pavement.

John lands hard on his back, but he doesn't have time to register what's happening before his breath is knocked out by a sharp kick to his side. He attempts to stand but is subdued by another blow, and he curls in on himself, trying not to cry out.

He pries open his eyes to find that it is not Vane who is kicks him, but the three other large boys. Vane stands off to the side and watched his goons do their job.

_Absolute monster._

John can't breathe. It doesn’t hurt all that badly, but they keep kicking him before he can regain his breath. He doesn't know how long it continues, but he’s given up fully by the time it stops.

When he opens his eyes again, he finds himself alone on the ground between the two buildings. He breathes slowly and painfully, turning onto his back to look up at the darkening sky.

_Why the hell would he insult Charles Vane like that?_

It takes a while for him to be able to stand, but he eventually drags himself to his feet and collects his backpack. He puts on his jacket to hide the state of his ruined shirt.

He wipes his cheeks and nose which had been running quite liberally, and rather than start heading to his dorm, he turns in the opposite direction and sets off determined.

_Vane will certainly be expelled now._

\-----

John chooses to go to one of the few people in ths place that he feels safe with. He goes to Flint.

He raps lightly on the door of the lab and hears a soft, “Come in.”

Flint looks up to see who it is, and his expression changes immediately, deep compassion and worry clouding his normally crystalline eyes, brow furrowing in concern. He knows something is very wrong. 

John tries to keep it together, but the tightness soon returns to his throat and his eyes sting and fill with tears.

Flint stands to guide John to take a seat and waits calmly for him to speak, encouraging the boy to take some deep breaths and gently rubbing his back. John tries to choke out a few words, but ends up in state where he is unable to speak.

He finally just reaches up to take off his jacket and starts to undo his shirt buttons when Flint tries to stop him insisting that, “Now is really not the time, Mr. Silver. Please do not-” But then John has flayed the material open, and Flint's breath catches at the already dark bruises all over John’s chest and sides.

Several emotions cross Flint's intelligent face then, most notably: shock, anger, and a tenderness that makes John start to cry even harder.

Flint reaches out to lightly touch the warm, swollen skin which makes John wince involuntarily.

“Who did this?”, Flint demands, teeth clenched.

John finally is able to give a quick summary of events and Flint watches him attentively the entire time.

“Stay here a moment, I'll be back shortly.”, he says.

The professor gets up and begins to head for the door. “You're safe here.”, he adds firmly.

John nods and tries to calm down.

Flint returns to the room a minute later with a bag of ice and a clean t-shirt in hand.

He takes a seat beside John and hands him the ice saying that it will help with the swelling and the pain. John removes the dirty shirt and holds the cold compress to the most tender spots. He hopes his ribs aren't broken...

He certainly knows that this will take much longer to heal than the fading red handprints branded on his ass. Despite everything, John giggles at the thought. Flint smiles warmly and reaches over to run a hand through John's dark curls.

John, who has just been on an emotional roller coaster ride, leans over to wrap his arms around Flint. The movement hurts John’s sides and chest, but he doesn't care because he is here with Flint and he is safe. Flint momentarily remains rigid, then moves slowly to wrap his arms around John, being careful not to press into the bruised spots.

John clings to him more tightly than ever, and realizes that this is the first time he's hugged Flint. This fact seems so strange to him because the man is so familiar, so stern but kind. This is also the first time that Flint has shown him any meaningful affection other than when they were...well...whatever it is they were doing.

Flint rests his bearded cheek on John’s head and holds him tightly. 

“I'm so sorry this happened to you.”, he says, impossibly gently.

John doesn't answer but continues to press his facr into his chest, inhaling his familiar and comforting scent.

After both have spent their emotions, they finally let go and look at each other. Something feels different. Better. Things are less cold between them.

Flint sighs and says,“I will report this immediately. You won't have to do a thing, those at fault will be punished. The school will want to compensate you in some way and whatever you ask, we will try to make it happen.”

John nods though he is less concerned about compensation and more about justice.

Flint reads this in his expression and assures him that this will not happen again. The school has an absolute no tolerance policy.

“If you do not wish for anyone other than I or the Headmistress to know, they will not find out.”

John agrees that he wants to keep things quiet and puts the clean shirt on. He prepares to leave, though he is clearly quite nervous about it. Flint rises from his chair and affirms that he will escort John to his dorm.

John has never been more relieved and almost hugs him again, but doesn't want to overstep. Flint sees his hesitance and cups the boy's face to wipe away a remaining tear, then puts a protective hand on his shoulder as they walk out across the school.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello everyone! Things have been pretry crazy lately but I'm happy to get this chapter up. Hopefully you like it, though it feels a little cliché to me but hey, like I said it's self indulget :)


	9. Chapter 9

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Look it is I, the writer who updates really inconsistently! Anyways, thanks for sticking with me this far! It should be finished in the next few days. Please Enjoy!

John lays awake that night. As hard as he tries, he can't get to sleep and tosses and turns carefully, as to not disturb his injuries.

He replays the terrible events over and over again, thinking of all the areas where he went wrong, how it could have been avoided. Though, something tells him that this was an inevitability from the moment Vane asked him his name all those weeks ago.

John had been in a few fights before, but never one where he was so disadvantaged, so unable to stand his own ground and hit back. He absolutely hated feeling so helpless and literally beaten down. He silently curses his attackers as he stares at the ceiling.

The only comfort is that if Flint has anything to do with it, the assholes will be out of this place for good by tomorrow.

The professor was so gentle with him today, yet so incredibly angry at Vane and his gang. He thinks of Flint’s comforting scent, and how it felt to be safe in his arms, and he finally falls into an uneasy sleep.

\-----

Flint keeps his promise.

John is notified before his classes begin in the morning to come to the Headmistress’ office in order to relay his version of events and to confirm from his bruises that his story has merrit.

Not that Headmistress Guthrie doubted it for a second, as Charles Vane and his friends seem just the type. And not to mention how visibly shaken John is from the trauma.

She informs John that he won't have to worry about things anymore as his assailants will never be able to attend the Walrus Academy again. It is a relief to John that they were expelled on the spot. The Headmistress then offered some profuse apologies and made a phone call to John’s father to fill him in. 

Despite their pleas, he declined a medical exam and insisted that there was nothing else they could do, and that he’d rather just try to move on from the issue.

It's time for his second period class by the time they have finished sorting things out, though he was told that he would not have to attend classes for the next few days if he wasn't feeling up to it. So, he decides take the opportunity to go back to his dorm to take a much needed nap, though when he wakes, he doesn't feel much better.

Oer the course of the next few days, things slowly return to normal as John beins attending classes again, though it takes some time before he can walk around without costantly watching his back.

Max, Billy, and his few other friends question the situation, and they are the few people he decides to tell. They react with a mixture of shock and concern, but he refuses to accept their pity and assures them that he is fine.

The only person he really wants to talk with is Flint. He feels like he needs to say something and he vists the professor after school to thank him.

Flint leans back in his chair casually, and insists that he only did what was necessary at the time and that he is glad John is looking better.

John is hurt by the words. It's irrational, but it's a let down. He craves the same affection and tenderness between them he felt the last time they were together. He wants something more.

He takes a step toward the man, scanning his stunning, bright eyes, trying to impart what he is feeling.

Flint drops his gaze and rubs his auburn stubble.

“Mr. Silver-”

“John is fine, Sir. Just John.”

Flint smiles and chooses his words carefully.

“John. You know that I regard you very warmly, and our time together is always pleasant. But this...I cannot give you more than I have previously. It would be...unwise for both of us.”

The look on John’s face is enough to break even his weather stained heart, and before he spends another moment drowning in those glassy pools, he leans forward and pulls John close to him. His hand finds the boy’s thick waves and he tangles his fingers in the dark locks.

It pains him greatly,  but John understands. As close as they have become and as deeply as they feel connected, it would be wrong. Flint is twice his age.

John doesn't cry this time. He just lives in the momet, enjoying the close proximity. He wishes that they were in another place and time. Somewhere where this could be possible.

When he finally pulls away, he surprises them both by placing a quick kiss to Flint's jawline. He doesn't push for more, just does it, then untangles himself from the warm embrace.

Flint looks phased, blinking and confused for a moment and John laughs at his reaction. John doesn't mention the flush across the man’s finely sculpted cheeks but enjoys the way it makes him look inexperienced and innocent. This is a way he would have never pictured the normally severe looking professor.  

John smiles widely and bids Flint a good night before heading out.

He thinks things will turn out to be better from here on out.


	10. Chapter 10

The majority of what’s left of John’s junior year passes quickly. Without all the drama and various troubles, he is able to focus on his studies and work on the things he loves.

He feels prepared when it is time to take his end of course exams, and scores highly on almost everything. His chemistry grade is now at the national average thanks to his tutoring sessions.

Toward the end of the year, John decides for certain that he wants to pursue art. It's what he loves to do plus he's good at it. So, he starts to research some universities specializing in the subject in order to be prepared for next year when has to make a decision.

Throughout the year, his interactions with Flint change into something new altogether. They begin to spend more time together just reading, or talking about anything and everything that's on their minds.

John tries to learn more about Flint and succeeds to a degree, though something about the man is still reserved when in John's presence. After their talks though, Flint becomes more pleasant and many of his students notice the change in his demeanor and wonder why he has started to smile more often. John is happy as ever, though they don't always just chat about the weather. 

Every now and then, John would do something that Flint would deem worthy of punishment, and they would proceed with their strange dynamics, frequently testing John’s limits. Once, John came three times in one session after relentless teasing and various typed of somewhat painful sensory stimuli.

He loved every bit of it.

Toward the end of the year on a pleasant day, John sat outside in the grass sketching his favorite architectural parts of the school. The high arched doorways and columns were reminiscent of the neoclassical era. Classes were finally over and he would soon be leaving to go home for the summer as most students had already done.

As he is sitting, a light breeze stirs up his pages and he curses, trying to find his place again. As he turns through his notebook, he finds something he had drawn months ago and had forgotten all about it.

It's the picture of Flint. The one of him looking out the window. John studies the sketch and smiles, seeing how much he has improved over these few months. It still looks nice to him because it's Flint, but he recognizes the flaws and areas that need work.

He flips to a clean page and begins to sketch him anew. This time, he softens the features a bit, and adds a hint of a teasing smile he knows so well. Once he’s done, he sits back and looks at his work, going back to fix a few details and shadows.

Flint looks beautiful.

No other word to describe it. John is always amazed what drawing from the heart can accomplish. The emotion is real, which means that the viewer will feel it too. Not that anyone will lay eyes on this piece.

_Hm, maybe just one._

He scribbles something on the back, then signs and dates the finished piece before collecting his things and setting off in search of his favorite professor.

He’s never given anyone such a meaningful piece before and trembles a bit as he knocks on the door. He almost runs, thinking that it's a stupid idea, but he waits for a response.

Nothing. He frowns and tries the door. It's locked.

_He's probably just in his dorm or something._

John decides to wait until tomorrow, his last day before he goes home, to give it to Flint. John has been dreading having to leave for the summer, and the two of them had carried on like normal, prefering to avoid the topic. John doesn't want to think about how much he will miss him.

\-----

The next day, the door is still locked and John starts to worry. Could Flint have left for the summer already? But he would have said goodbye! John takes off toward the main office and asks to speak with the headmistress.

“Mr. Silver”, she greets, “You haven't left yet?”

“No ma’am. I’m leaving tomorrow.”

He stands in the doorway awkwardly for a moment before asking, “I was wondering if you might know where Professor Flint might be. I wanted to wish him a nice holiday but he’s not in his room.”

“Professor Flint? Ah, yes I recall that you two are close.”

John is quick to say that they’re not _that_ close and fidgets uncomfortably.

The headmistress smiles a bit sadly and says,”I'm afraid Professor Flint has left. I thought he might have announced it...”

John’s heart clenches.

“Oh, for the summer?”

“Not exactly. You see, there was a job opportunity somewhere else and he decided that it was time for a change. He gave notice about a month ago that he will not be back to the academy.”

John only hears part of what she says because he feels like his head has just been shoved underwater.

He mutters something like, "Thank you for your time, enjoy your summer.”, before rushing from the mahogany office.

He can't breathe. Again. Too many thoughts cloud his head and hurt his heart.

_Why would he leave? Why would he not say goodbye? Can he really be gone? Was it because of me? I have to find him. I have to…_

He paces around his tiny dorm and is unable to calm himself. Shock leads to anger. Anger to sadness. Sadness to confusion. Back again.

That day, part of his heart breaks. Everything he thought about Flint is shaken. He pulls out his drawing and looks at his near perfect rendering of the man’s face and the tears flow relentlessly. _How could he do this?_

John loved him. In so many ways.

John thinks about crumpling the paper, about ripping it to shreds.

But he can't bring himself to. After all, it’s all he has left of Flint now.  _His Flint._

_\-----_

The next few days are no easier despite having left for home. He almost misses the academy already, but it's probably only because that's where Flint is. Or was.

He misses other parts of the school as well, though. In the short year he was there, it really became a second home. There were plenty of bad parts of course, but they only made him more strongly appreciate the good.

John’s summer is pleasant enough except for the gaping hole in his heart. He gets a job at the convenience store down the street and scores an art internship at a local company. He meets up with a few old buddies and they spend time playing video games and driving around town. In July, his dad takes him on a boating trip and they have fun fishing off the back of the little pontoon.

Before he knows it, it's time to head back to the academy for his final year though he can't bring himself to get very excited. When he arrives, something feels very wrong as he steps onto the campus. Nothing here will be the same without Flint.

The year goes on and he does considerably well academically, and has some good times with his friends. It's no problem to fill out university applications in the fall as his art portfolio is bursting at the seams.

He is relieved to be accepted into his top choices by the end of the year. After a great deal of deliberation, he chooses a school that does not just specialize in art, but the liberal arts as well. They have a top program of design, and he loved the feel of the campus when he visited.

John graduates in the top half of his class that spring. He walks across the stage, smiling at the the applause ans support from his friends, and he knows his father in the audience is proud of him as he shakes Eleanor Guthrie’s hand. He is finally happy as he takes his seat on the other side of the auditorium.

There is a lot to look forward to.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> whooo this one was quite the chapter. I feel as if it was a bit rushed but I wanted to show how fast the time flew. the final installment should be up tomorrow :)


	11. Chapter 11 (Epilogue)

John takes a deep breath and peers up at the clear sky as he walks to his first day of class. He looks around admiring the old buildings and the small trees that line the brick sidewalk.

This is it. John’s officially an adult now. He’s eighteen and a college freshman, ready to get started with his major in visual art. He can't believe he’s finally here and  his excitement lasts all day.

He smiles genuinely, introducing himself to the people around him, asking them how their first day is going. He loves everything here so far and already feels at home in his small dorm, the student union, and the classes he visits that are a part of his monday schedule. The first day goes splendidly. 

On tuesday, he has to attend more of the required freshman courses including English and History. He likes his English class, which is focusing on classic literature, and it is over before he knows it.

He glances down at his recently revised schedule (in order to accommodate another art class) and finds the room number for his next class: History 100. 

It’s not far from where he is now- just two buildings over. He finds the room with no trouble and takes a seat toward the front of the class as he had in all of the rest. 

It’s a fairly large group, and John chats lightly with the other freshman as they wait for class to start. The bell rings after a few minutes and the professor walks briskly into the room, hands folded behind his back.

John nearly chokes on his water. 

_ He can't believe it. _

After all this time... after being utterly and completey wrecked. After wondering where the hell he went and searching in vain for any leads, here he is:

Professor Flint. 

Here he is with his unforgettably handsome face and refined mannerisms. The professor looks somewhat different now, but it's definitely him.  John could never forget those intense, piercing eyes and ginger hair, though he’s shaved his head and has allowed his beard to fill in making it look even redder than ever.

And after everything, here he is looking down at his clipboard checking the role.  John’s stare is locked on him and his pulse is racing. He hasn't noticed John yet, but John sees the exact moment it registers as the man croaks out, “John Silver”, and looks around with slight panic. 

His eyes find John’s and they look at each other for the first time in more than a year. In an instant w ith one glance, an incredible amount of underdstanding passes between them. And in that moment, after so much pent up rage, and hurt, John forgives him. 

He forgives him for all the misery he put John through. The mystery of his disappearance and the lack of closure. In that moment, John loves him again. Though truly, he had never stopped. 

After the unexpected and earth shattering moment, Flint remembers what he is doing and continues down the list of names, saying them tightly and tugging at his shirt collar.

John has no idea what is going on in the class that day. Nothing makes sense. He can't figure out why it is that Flint is here teaching history or what really happened.

The one thing he does determine is the reason why he didn't make the connection sooner. The instructor's name on the roster is ‘McGraw’, not ‘Flint’. John racks his brain but can't find the answers he desires. Perhaps it is his real name.

The class is dismissed after the hour and John hangs back, just like old times.  He approaches Flint calmly, like he would a timid animal, as not to startle it.  Flint’s eyes glisten as he looks at John, who is no longer a boy, and almost his height by now.

John doesn't say anything. He can't trust himself to. Instead he just looks up at the man he used to know. 

They stare in silence until finally;

“I’m sorry.”, Flint says softly, reverently. He puts incredible emotion into the two words. The two words that people say when there is nothing else that can be said. Words that are rarely good enough. 

But for John, they are more than enough and he is clinging to his professor in an instant, holding on and refusing to let go.

They stand wrapped in each other's arms, finally together again.

It is enough. 

\-----

A week later, Flint walks into his room one morning, and is going through his mail from the box on his door when he comes across a peculiar large envelope. 

He sits down at his desk and pops it open to reveal a thin sheet of paper inside. He pulls it out carefully and is astounded at what he finds.

It's a portrait of himself, though not a current one judging by the fact that his hair is much longer and he looks, well...beautiful. 

The detail and style is impeccable. This was drawn by someone who sees him differently than he does. Someone who thinks the world of him. Someone who loves him. 

He knows who the signature at the bottom of the page will belong to before he even looks to see.

He turns it over. It is inscribed in an elegant cursive.

_ To James Flint, who taught me so much more than chemistry. Yours always, John Silver. _

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is what happens when you try to write a three chapter smut fic and then end up getting attached....  
> This is the longest fic I've ever written (so far) and I'd like to thank you all so much for reading it! It has been so great to talk with some folks! Everyone is so kind, funny, and supportive.  
> I have already started a different story so stay tuned for that! Thanks again!  
>  -Wren

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you for reading!   
> you can always talk to me on my tumblr [here](http://triaux.tumblr.com)


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